


Even Billionaires Get Lonely

by blainedarling



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 13:54:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blainedarling/pseuds/blainedarling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine only meant to hire Sebastian for the week for company's sake. A 'Pretty Woman' AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even Billionaires Get Lonely

Sebastian jerked awake to the blare of his phone alarm going off close to his ear; reaching out on autopilot to whack the obnoxiously loud noise off as quickly as he could. He groaned, shifting on the tiny, creaking bed and running a hand through his hair. He cursed under his breath - he knew he should have showered when he got in the night before (or, rather, early that morning) no matter how tired he was. He could feel the stale crustiness of the product that had half melted from his hair, not to mention the ghost of the sweat of four men across his skin. He yawned, stretching his arms above his head as he cracked open an eye far enough to be able to actually read the time. 

 

“Shit,” he sighed. He was already going to be late as it was, and the later it got, the worse the men would be. With a reluctant hum, he hauled himself up into a sitting position, just catching a sight of himself in the mirror across from his bed. Good to know he didn’t look as bad as he felt, at least; the ache in his lower back, however, becoming noticeable the moment he stood up.

 

If there was one thing Sebastian insisted on, in the shoebox apartment he shared with his friend, Hunter, it was hot water. The electricity cut out? Screw it - and they were always pushing it with rent, as it was. But hot water was one of Sebastian’s few luxuries and he’d be damned if he was going to give it up.

 

They didn’t have a shower, just a rusting old tub in a bathroom where the lock had long since fallen from the wooden frame. Sebastian lowered himself into the water, so hot it should have burned, with a sigh of relief.

 

As he bathed, he could already hear the sounds of the city waking up outside of the window. But not for the morning; no, that had long since passed. Los Angeles had its day time and it had its night; but the inhabitants of the two rarely crossed paths.

 

Sebastian was a man of the night. That’s what Hunter liked to call what they did. Sebastian called it being able to afford food and somewhere to live without having finished high school. It hadn’t been his choice. In fact, he’d done well in school, had even considered college. But as he had learned the hard way, life’s a bitch. And so, it went on.

 

*

 

Hunter was still involved in a territory argument with Jeff, another of the regulars around Hollywood Boulevard, when the car drew up, with a clunk, to the sidewalk. Sebastian, personally, had nothing against Jeff. A little dim-witted perhaps, but he seemed nice enough for the most part. But his roommate was off on one of his rants, and he knew by then that it was better to just leave it be. With a last glance at Hunter, who simply offered a wave of encouragement, before returning to his screaming match, Sebastian sauntered up to the car. 

 

He knew he looked damn good; he’d made sure of that. He’d heard the landlord demanding rent as he’d been on his way out, and a quick check of their joint account (the whole in the wall above the stove) confirmed his suspicions that Hunter had been using again. He said it was the only thing that kept him sane. Sebastian said it was what would get him killed. They were down to forty dollars, no way near enough to cover rent. He needed customers who were willing to lay down the entire contents of their wallets for a chance with him. Someone driving such a car was bound to be a good candidate.

 

Sebastian bent from his his hips down to come eye-level with the open window, and face to the face with the man inside. He couldn’t have been much older than him; but it was clear their situations couldn’t be more different. Everything from the starch of his shirt collar to the style of his hair screamed money and expense. 

 

The man looked up and sighed, although Sebastian noticed the way his eyes drifted down the length of his exposed neck.   
“I just need directions to Beverly Hills,” he said sharply, tearing his eyes away from Sebastian and staring stoically out of the front windscreen.

 

Sebastian couldn’t help but feel disappointed. It would have been the first time in a long while that he’d have had someone fucking him that wasn’t over forty. He might even have been able to enjoy it for a little while.

 

“Fine,” he replied surly, the corners of his lips quirking up. “For ten dollars.”  
The man snorted, rolling his eyes. “You can’t charge me for directions.”  
“I can do anything I want,” Sebastian replied cockily, raising an eyebrow. “And it just went up to twenty. For fifty, I’ll take you there myself. Personally.” He turned the last word over his tongue, before dropping him a wink.

 

When the man didn’t reply, Sebastian shrugged, pushing back off the car and turning around as he waited on the sidewalk. He gave it approximately thirty seconds before the man changed his mind; especially given that his ass was currently all he’d be able to see out of his right hand window.

 

An exasperated sigh came from inside the car, and the door next to Sebastian popped open and hit him lightly on the backs of his thighs.  
“Fifty dollars,” the man said firmly, already pulling the bill from his pocket and giving it to him, before starting up the car.  
Sebastian whistled softly under his breath. That had to be the easiest fifty he’d ever made.

 

*

 

By the time they made it to the Regent in Beverly Hills, Sebastian was more than a little curious about Blaine. That’s what he’d said his name was: just Blaine. They’d exchanged small talk en route and for a while, it had seemed as though he was warming up to him. But when he’d very firmly palmed his crotch - nothing. He hadn’t even been slightly interested. Maybe he was straight - but then again, no straight man pulled up on Hollywood Boulevard on a Friday night, even to ask for directions.

 

Having safely passed the keys over to the valet at the front of the hotel, Blaine turned to him. There was no doubt about the look he was giving him; Sebastian could practically feel the warmth of Blaine’s gaze drinking him in.

 

Sebastian had gone pretty simple that night: a black silk shirt, open to half way down his chest; a skin tight pair of black leather jeans, tucked into boots at the bottom. A touch of product to give his hair that ‘tug on me’ look, and a trace of eyeliner to accentuate his lashes.

 

“How much do you charge?” Blaine blurted out, his cheeks colouring right after he’d said it.   
Sebastian could tell from the way his hands were balling into fists at his sides that he’d never done that before. “A hundred for an hour.”  
“And for the night?”

 

The question took Sebastian by surprise. It wasn’t often to be wanted for the entire night; usually it was a case of in, out, and  _the money’s on the dresser_. He considered it for a moment, before replying. “Let’s say five hundred.”  
Blaine didn’t hesitate that time, just nodded. “Done.”

 

Sebastian raised an eyebrow; he’d expected at least a little bit of haggling. Not that he was going to complain, of course. The guy was hot and there were bills that needed paying. “Great,” he smirked. “Let’s get started, then, killer.”

 

“Wait.” Blaine held up a hand, blocking the entrance to the hotel. “Let me just..” He trailed off, taking a tentative step forward. His hands fumbled slightly as he reached for the buttons on Sebastian’s shirt, doing them up until he reached his collarbone.  
Sebastian couldn’t help but shiver at the light brush of his fingertips on his bare skin with each button, his hands moving to rest on Blaine’s biceps. 

 

When Blaine was finished, he looked up, breath hitching as he became aware of their proximity to one another.   
“Usually people are taking clothes off me, not the other way around,” Sebastian teased softly, leaning down to press a lingering kiss behind Blaine’s ear.  
Blaine chuckled, stepping back and looping an arm firmly around Sebastian’s waist, but didn’t reply.

 

Not that Sebastian didn’t know exactly why Blaine had done just what he did - anything to make it look less like he was bringing a prostitute back to his room. A male one, at that. Sebastian didn’t pay it much thought: while he may never have been to a hotel quite that fancy, it was an attitude he had become pretty much immune to.

 

As for the suite itself, decadent didn’t even begin to cover it. The entire penthouse had to measure up to being at least five times the size of Sebastian and Hunter’s tiny little apartment. Perhaps the colours weren’t to his taste, the luxurious pinks just a touch too museum-piece for his liking, but he could hardly complain about his room for the night.

 

Sebastian hadn’t even made it through all the rooms by the time the room service arrived with champagne and strawberries. He at least had the courtesy to wait until Blaine poured him a glass, which when handed to him, he promptly chugged down. 

 

The corners of Blaine’s mouth quirked in amusement as he offered him the tray of strawberries, his eyes dancing playfully. “You should try a strawberry. It brings out the flavor of the champagne,” he informed him.

 

Sebastian shrugged, selecting a ripe red strawberry from the platter and bringing it to his lips. He paused, making sure that Blaine’s gaze was locked on him before sinking his mouth around the fruit with a slightly obscene sucking noise. He followed it through to the end, right down to sucking the lingering juice from his fingertips with a soft groan.

 

Blaine cleared his throat, straightening up swiftly; but Sebastian didn’t miss the hint of colour on his cheeks. “Just help yourself, and feel free to put on a movie or something,” he mumbled, gesturing towards the television in the lounge area of the room, before taking a seat at the large desk nearby.

 

“Aren’t you going to join me?” Sebastian asked with a pout, standing up and stretching out his long limbs before walking over to where he sat. He draped his arms over Blaine’s shoulders, hands smoothing down over his chest to rest at the waistband of his pants.  
Blaine’s breath hitched, but otherwise, he didn’t react. He gently shrugged Sebastian off, turning to the papers stacked up in front of him. “I’ve got work to do.”

 

There was something about Blaine that confused Sebastian. Even once he’d accepted that he apparently didn’t want to sleep with him, and had moved to spread out on the plush rug in front of the television, shoes kicked off, champagne at his side. 

 

Maybe he was married, and missing the domestic sense he got back home. Maybe he was a virgin, and wanted sex, but had no idea what he was doing. Maybe he regretted asking Sebastian up at all, but was too polite to suggest he leave.

 

Sebastian turned the five hundred dollar bills, that Blaine had given him in advance for the night, over in his hands slowly. Who paid five hundred dollars to have a prostitute lay on the floor of their suite and watch old movies?

 

He looked up at the sound of footsteps approaching him and smiled as he watched the man sink into an armchair a few feet away. It was past three in the morning, and while Sebastian was accustomed to late nights such as those, he could see the exhaustion written over Blaine’s face.

 

In the soft light being thrown across him from the lamp on the table, Sebastian couldn’t help but think that Blaine looked sort of beautiful. His hair was curling free from where it had been gelled into place, his full lips tilted in a half smile where he gazed right back at Sebastian. He’d lost the tie, the first few buttons of his shirt open to leave his collar gaping wide. 

 

Sebastian hummed, pushing himself up off the rug to walk over to him, moving to straddle his hips on the chair. He’d half expected that Blaine would shake his head, or push him off, and he couldn’t help but feel somewhat satisfied when, instead, the other man just settled his hands low on Sebastian’s waist.

 

Blaine dug the pads of his thumbs into the curve of Sebastian’s hips, the latter taking that as an incentive to duck down and begin peppering kisses up the length of his neck.   
“Do you have any rules?” Blaine asked quietly, head tipping back to allow Sebastian room to explore his skin.  
Sebastian tilted his head up, sucking a mark on Blaine’s jaw before replying. “I don’t kiss on the mouth.”

 

He moved to Blaine’s collarbone, nibbling and lapping at his skin, picking up faint traces of cologne and sweat. He’d been headed that way anyway, but apparently Blaine was the impatient type, for he twisted his hand into Sebastian’s hair, pushing him firmly down.

 

Sebastian smirked - that was more like it. He shuffled off the chair to drop to his knees before him, taking his time over untucking Blaine’s shirt and popping the button on his pants. He pushed them down just far enough that he could see the black of Blaine’s underwear, leaning forward to nose at his half hard cock through the thin material. 

 

He dug his fingers into Blaine’s thighs as the other man did the same into his hair; opening his mouth to suck at Blaine’s cock through the cotton, feeling the material stick to his skin messily. 

 

“Sebastian,” Blaine whispered, already breathless and panting, a deliciously red flush marking his skin from jaw to the middle of his chest. “Don’t tease,” he begged, rocking up against Sebastian’s mouth.  
The other man grinned, looping his fingers into the waistband of his underwear, and pulling Blaine’s cock free. “Just relax,” he murmured.

 

*

 

The other side of the bed was empty, the sheets already cool, by the time Sebastian awoke the next morning. He stretched slowly, relishing in how sated and relaxed his entire body felt; from the tips of his fingers right down to the balls of his feet. 

 

Rather than get up straight away, he settled back against the silk sheets, thinking back on the night before. The image of Blaine, coming over his hand, mouth open, throat exposed, was burned into Sebastian’s mind. He’d been sure that that would just be the start, that then Blaine would lead him to the bedroom to continue making up his five hundred dollars.

 

Apparently, Blaine had had other plans; or, at least, when they were done, he’d suggested Sebastian head to bed, while he, himself, returned to his work. Ignoring where he was half hard, Sebastian had done exactly as Blaine had said, falling into a deep sleep within seconds of his head hitting the soft pillow.

 

But with thoughts of Blaine flickering across his mind and the warmth of the morning sunlight dancing across the sheets around him, Sebastian couldn’t help but slip his hand into the waistband of his underwear, wrapping a hand around himself firmly.

 

He let out a sigh, allowing his eyes to fall closed as he slowly starting jacking himself off, focusing on the memory of Blaine, heavy and full against his tongue. His movements quickly increased in vigor, hips canting from the bed, head tipping back into the pillow. 

 

With a few more twists of his wrist and a flick of his thumb across the head, Sebastian was coming messily into his underwear, falling back against the sheets with a soft of hum of pleasure.

 

“Good morning, Sebastian.”   
Sebastian cracked one eye open to find Blaine leaning against the doorframe, fully dressed, and smiling in amusement. He grinned right back, wiping his hand off before drawing it free again. “Good morning, Blaine.”

 

“I was thinking about you, in case you were wondering,” Sebastian continued flirtatiously, as Blaine moved to perch on the end of the bed.  
Blaine let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head a little. “I wasn’t, but thank you, all the same. I’m flattered.”

 

He pulled his gaze away from Sebastian for a moment, tracing patterns into the sheets as he wet his lips. “I have a proposition for you.”  
“Oh?” Sebastian purred, leaning up onto his elbows, the sheets slipping down to pool around his hips.   
Blaine neatly folded his hands into his lap before looking up again. “I’m here on business until Sunday. I’d like you to stay with me for the week.”

 

Sebastian clicked his tongue against his teeth, giving a disinterested shrug. “I’m not sure you could afford me.”  
“How much?” Blaine responded hastily, fingers tapping against his thigh.  
The other man considered it for a moment before grinning. “Five thousand.”

 

Blaine snorted. “Three thousand.”  
“Four.”  
“Done.”  
Sebastian let out a low whistle, falling back against the bed once more. “Four thousand dollars,” he murmured.  _“Fuck.”_

 

The bed shifted as Blaine stood up, running a hand through his hair. “I’m going to also leave you some money for today. I’d like you to go shopping. A suit for tonight, please - we’re going out for dinner. And perhaps some other things too. Whatever you want.”

 

Sebastian just nodded, slightly dazed, watching as Blaine collected his suit jacket and instructed him on where to meet him that evening.   
“Wait,” he called out, just as Blaine’s footsteps were fading from earshot. “By  _other things_  do you mean sex toys or, like, shirts?”

 

*

 

After putting through a quick call to Hunter to let him know he’d left some money for him at the reception of the hotel (“for the  _rent_ , Hunt, before we end up living on the sidewalk. Again.”) Sebastian made his way towards Rodeo Drive, his pocket stuffed full of the shopping money Blaine had left him.

 

Sebastian couldn’t even remember the last time he’d worn a suit; maybe his uncle’s wedding, when he’d been thirteen. As for where to buy one; he had no idea. He walked down the street in the warm midday sun, glancing curiously in store windows hoping something would catch his eye.

 

He came across a small tailor’s, tucked between two high fashion women’s wear stores and with a shrug, he stepped inside. It even smelt like an expensive place, the scent of designer cologne melting in the air, as if it had been sprayed over all of the products.

 

“Can I help you with something?” A sales assistant approached him with a small frown etched into her forehead.  _Jane_ , her name tag read.  
“Well, Jane,” Sebastian smiled charmingly. “I was just having a look to see if this store fits my requirements. But I’ll let you know.”

 

Jane visibly bristled, glancing towards one of her co-workers before turning back to Sebastian; the frown having turned to a full-on glare. “I think it would be better if you left. I really don’t think this is a place for you.”

 

Sebastian froze, eyes narrowing as he looked between the members of staff. Sure, he was wearing his clothes from last night, and perhaps they were a little less classy than what the typical shoppers of Rodeo Drive might wear, but he had money to spend, just like any other customer. 

 

But he was used to that look. The one of disgust, the one meant to make him feel guilty or ashamed. God knows, he’d seen it enough times. People passing down Hollywood Boulevard; others who saw him on his way back home in the mornings; even sometimes clients, once they were finished with him.

 

Sebastian was so very tired of being looked at like that. “Fine,” he mumbled, shaking his head and heading towards the door he’d just come through. “Thank you for your help,” he sneered, making sure to pointedly slam the door on his way out.

 

*

 

Regardless of the fact that he hadn’t bought a thing, Sebastian had had enough of shopping by that point. Things didn’t exactly improve when he made it back to the hotel, either, to find his way to the elevators blocked by an elderly gentleman who claimed to work there.

 

“I am Blaine’s guest,” Sebastian repeated for the third time, practically growling at the unflinching man.  
The man paused, slipping the binder from under his arm to flip through a few pages. “Would that be Blaine Anderson?”  
“Yes,” Sebastian sighed, although he could only assume it was. He had no idea of Blaine’s last name, since the other man hadn’t told him.

 

“Ah,” the gentleman replied, smiling a little then. “Mr Anderson is a very loyal client here. I presume you are his..nephew?”  
Sebastian raised an eyebrow, folding his arms across his chest defensively. “Yes, yes I am. His nephew. Sebastian. I’m staying with him for the week.”  
“Of course,” the gentleman replied, a twinkle in his eye. “I’m Mr Thompson, the hotel’s manager.”

 

Not that Sebastian was the type to believe in fairytales - real life had certainly killed any illusions he might once have had - but it seemed Mr Thompson was his guardian angel, of sorts. With a click of his fingers, he had a tailor on hand, ready to measure Sebastian for a custom made suit that would be ready in time for the evening. 

 

*

 

When the evening itself came, Sebastian was sure that he had never worn anything as perfectly handcrafted as the suit that he had received. It was a classic black suit; simple, maybe, but by no means any less elegant. The material gave off a shine that managed to look classy, rather than tacky; the cut tailored perfectly to accentuate the length and tone of every one of Sebastian’s limbs. It was accompanied with a deep green shirt and a matching bow tie.  
“Mr Anderson loves bow ties,” Mr Thompson had informed him with a grin, as he adjusted the strip of fabric around his neck.

 

Blaine arrived ten minutes late, to find Sebastian nowhere to be seen. The other man was, in fact, standing next to the bar, where Mr Thompson had provided him with a glass of champagne while he waited.

 

“Excuse me.” Blaine bustled up to the manager himself, checking his watch anxiously. “Have you seen-”  
“Your nephew, sir?” Mr Thompson cut him off smoothly, gesturing towards the bar. “Enjoy your evening.”

 

Blaine frowned in confusion, turning to see Sebastian, one arm resting against the marble countertop, an easy grin playing across his features. “Right,” he murmured, nodding vaguely. “My..nephew.”

 

He approached Sebastian slowly, his shoes echoing on the polished floors as he neared him. “You look breathtaking,” he murmured, chuckling in disbelief at the sight before him. “And a bow tie, and all.” He reached up to run his thumb over the corner of the material with a small grin. 

 

Sebastian grinned, taking one last swig from his glass before setting it down neatly on the counter. “And you are late, darling, so I suggest we get going, hm?”  
Blaine raised an eyebrow, letting out a huff as Sebastian settled his hand low on the small of his back. “I thought you were my nephew, not my husband,” he mumbled out of the corner of his mouth, cheeks heating up.  
Sebastian snorted. “Whatever gets you going,” he shrugged, leading them out of the double doors. 

 

*

 

Sebastian payed little attention to the business meeting going on and around him at the dinner, too immersed in the flurry of course after course after course that was laid before him. At some point, Blaine’s hand found its way to his thigh, causing Sebastian to look up in surprise, a witty comment on the tip of his tongue. But Blaine’s attention was still very much focused on his associates, just the hint of a smile on his lips enough for Sebastian to know that it had been absolutely intentional.

 

The evening ended abruptly; the two men they’d been with up and leaving before they’d even made it to the main course. Having said that, there had already been at least five courses up to that point, so Sebastian doubted they would go hungry. 

 

Blaine was silent as the two of them finished up dinner together; and continued to be all the way back to the hotel. Sebastian didn’t push him to talk about it; he was starting to get a handle on reading Blaine, and he knew when to encourage and when to hold back. Instead, he simply shuffled across the backseat of the car, curling into his side and placing a hand over Blaine’s, where it lay on his knee.

 

The gesture seemed to serve its purpose, as Blaine looked up with a small smile, slowly entwining their fingers before returning to staring pensively out of the window as the driver navigated his way back towards the hotel.

 

“You go upstairs,” Blaine said firmly as they crossed the lobby, still hand in hand. “I’ll be up in a little while.” He lifted Sebastian’s hand to his lips, to press a gentle kiss to his palm, before folding his hand around it and letting it fall from his own. 

 

*

 

Sebastian watched the clock on the mantlepiece fall to three thirty in the morning, sighing softly. Maybe he should have just gone to bed already, but with Blaine clearly upset, or at least bothered, as he was, Sebastian felt he should be there for him, just in case.

 

Four hours was past  _a little while_ , too, and Sebastian was.. Well, he was almost starting to worry about him. He reached for the hotel’s complimentary robe, tugging it on over his underwear and tying it tightly around his waist. No doubt he’d receive more than a few looks going down to the lobby dressed like that, but hopefully no worse than he’d gotten before.

 

The marble was cool against his feet as he stepped out of the elevator, looking around hopefully until Mr Thompson pointed into the ballroom to one side. The tables were still set up from an event that had been held there earlier that evening, but the only people left inside were a few stragglers sitting at them, and Blaine himself.

 

Blaine sat at the bench of a grand piano, fingers lightly traveling over the keys as the music grew and filled each corner of the room. He didn’t even pause, let alone stop, when Sebastian walked in, glancing up with a soft smile before returning his focus to the keys beneath his fingers. 

 

The music was beautiful; unfamiliar to Sebastian, and yet he could practically feel Blaine’s soul dripping through it. His unspoken thoughts and worries coming out in the rise and fall of the notes that twisted and melted into the air.

 

Blaine closed up the passage he’d been playing to a small flurry of applause, nodding politely around at his tiny audience. His gaze fell fully to Sebastian then, something hungry in his eyes as he looked at him stood there, just in the robe. 

 

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Blaine asked gently, to the others sat around the room, who dutifully filed out through the doors Sebastian was stood next to.  
He made his way over to Blaine, resting his hands lightly over his shoulders. “I didn’t know you could play,” he commented softly, laughing a little as Blaine firmly pushed the stool back enough that he could move Sebastian to stand in front of him. 

 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Blaine replied quietly, his hands slowly undoing the knot of Sebastian’s robe and pushing the material back.  
Sebastian’s breath hitched, a chord of dirty notes hitting the air with the backs of his thighs hitting the keys. Blaine leaned forward to rest his head on Sebastian’s chest, fingers drawing patterns over his bare ribs.

 

Blaine looked up, chin still propped on his chest as he watched Sebastian slowly; the other man carding his fingers through Blaine’s hair in a gesture that, with any other two people, would have seemed affectionate. Loving, almost.

 

A flurry of random notes sounded across the room as Blaine stood up, pushing Sebastian roughly down against the main body of the piano. No words were spoken, just the rough pant of Sebastian’s breath and Blaine’s breathy sighs, combined with the ongoing smash of note after note. An inconsistent tune that ended with two bodies pressed together, fingers digging half moon marks into skin, mouths not quite touching.

 

*

 

Later that night, once they’d finally made it upstairs after running through the lobby, their cheeks still flushed as they hid their laughter behind their hands, they lay nose to nose in the king size bed. There was at least a person’s worth of space at either side but neither of them cared, hands lightly resting on each other’s hips, feet tangled together, two heads sharing one pillow.

 

“I always wanted to be a musician,” Blaine murmured, his fingers moving over Sebastian’s side as if it were his keyboard. “I love to perform. But my father said it wasn’t a sustainable career choice.” He sighed softly, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before they opened again, warm amber fixed on Sebastian. “Somehow I ended up in business and I lost my way trying to get out.”

 

Sebastian hummed softly, pressing forward to lay a kiss to Blaine’s jaw. “I wanted to study medicine,” he admitted, with a sad smile. “But I didn’t even get through high school - not that I couldn’t have done it.”  
Blaine frowned a little, moving his hand momentarily to brush the hair back from Sebastian’s eyes. “So, what stopped you?”  
“My father kicked me out at sixteen,” Sebastian replied quietly, his eyes not quite meeting Blaine’s. “He caught me with a boy.”  
Blaine's hand was on his hip again, warm, anchoring him to that moment. 

 

_You are here, with me. You are safe. Nothing can hurt you._

 

“I met Hunter, my roommate, at a gas station just outside of Ohio. I’d walked there with the one bag I’d been allowed to pack, my shoes falling through - I must have looked a mess. I think by that point, I’d lost all faith in illusion, in fairytale. The only thing I had left to believe in was luck. He said he was hitching a ride to Beverly Hills and, well - here I am.”

 

“It’s not too late,” Blaine reassured him gently, caressing his hip with gentle touches. “You could still go back to school. Maybe put that four thousand towards something.”  
Sebastian froze a little, before nodding. For a split second, it had been easy to forget that he was being paid to be there. That he wasn’t anything special, he wasn’t anything long term. He was the hired help, ready to be passed on when Blaine was through with him.

 

Blaine seemed to sense the sudden change in the mood, sighing under his breath as he leaned back to switch of the bedside lamp. “Goodnight, Sebastian.”

 

*

 

Sebastian walked out onto the balcony the next morning, dressed again in the clothes he had first arrived at the hotel in - a suit just seemed too much for the daytime. Blaine looked up from his newspaper, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

 

“I thought you bought more than just the suit.”  
Sebastian hummed, setting down on the edge of the balcony and grabbing one of the croissants from the table. “So you did mean clothes, not handcuffs.”  
“What?” Blaine stammered, looking somewhere between entertained and alarmed.

 

Sebastian ignored his confusion and instead sighed, stuffing a bit of croissant into his mouth before replying. “I tried to get clothes but the sales assistants looked at me like I was.. Well, a hooker,” he shrugged. “I only managed to get a suit because Mr Thompson snapped his fingers and a tailor appeared.” He paused, leaning forward to stare at Blaine intently. “How rich do you have to be to get things like tailors at your side with the click of your fingers?”

 

“Very,” Blaine replied distractedly, tapping his fingers off the newspaper he had abandoned on the table. “Could you come down from that ledge, please?”  
“Huh?” Sebastian mumbled, through a mouthful of croissant.  
Blaine smiled politely, but Sebastian could see the tension behind it. “I really don’t like heights and you’re making me nervous sitting like that.”

 

“Oh,” Sebastian hummed, leaning back a little with a teasing grin.  
“Please, please, stop.” Blaine closed his eyes, his hands balling into fists in his lap.  
Sebastian chuckled and hopped up, moving to the seat next to Blaine instead. “It’s safe to open your eyes now, I promise.”

 

Blaine cracked one open before doing the same with the other, sighing in relief.   
“If you don’t like heights, why would you get the penthouse?”  
“It’s the best room in the city,” he replied, as if it were obvious. “And it’s fine as long as I sit right here,” he smiled, gesturing towards where his seat was perched right next to the door. 

 

“Now. Eat up - we’re going shopping.”  
Sebastian groaned, letting his head flop onto Blaine’s lap. “Not again.  _Please._  It was torturous enough yesterday.”

 

*

 

Shopping with Blaine was an entirely different experience than shopping alone. Whereas the day before, the sales assistants had been snappy and dismissive, with Blaine there, it was as if they were the only customers in the store.

 

Blaine set him up with a personal stylist at a larger store, a few doors down from the one Sebastian had been to by himself previously, before leaving him to get to work on time. The door had barely closed behind him before Sebastian was surrounded by dozens of shirts, pants, blazers, ties; in every colour and material available.

 

Sebastian couldn’t help but pick out more than he would ever need for the rest of the week; the promise of Blaine’s credit card that sat waiting with the cashier too hard to resist. Blaine’s words from the night before kept ringing through his head; the suggestion that Sebastian could start over. Could go back and change track, from the hopeless one he was currently on. Medicine students needed shirts, right?

 

One of the sales assistant leaned down to show him a pair of hand-cut brogues, and Sebastian grabbed hold of his shoulder to stare at the charcoal gray bow tie he had around his neck. “Blaine would love this,” he grinned, tugging at the material. “Can I have this?”  
He jumped, unknotting it with a flurry of  _of course, sir_  and  _consider it yours, sir_  and adding it to the ever growing pile of Sebastian’s purchases.

 

*

 

Sebastian paused on his walk home, arms laden with bags from the store, already sporting a crisp white shirt, navy pants that hugged his ass in a way he was sure Blaine would appreciate, and a pair of Ray Bans. 

 

With a wide grin, he stepped into the boutique that he had previously been shunned from, not even a flicker of recognition passing over the assistant’s faces.  
“I suppose you don’t remember me,” he declared, singling Jane out in the crowd of sales assistants. “I was the man you refused to serve.” He held up his arm full of bags with a smirk. “Big mistake, honey.”

 

*

 

When Blaine returned home, it was to find Sebastian awaiting him with a room service dinner laid out across the table. Sebastian, himself, was dressed in one of his new shirts, unbuttoned and loose, and the first pair of designer briefs he’d ever owned in his life. The bow tie he’d chosen for Blaine hung untied around his neck, contrasting with his tanned skin.

 

“These,” Sebastian started, toying with the waistband of his underwear as he settled into Blaine’s lap. “Cost more than my monthly rent.”  
Blaine hummed in appreciation, smoothing his hands over the curve of Sebastian’s ass. “Well, they feel wonderful,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to Sebastian’s collarbone. “And another bow tie, I see,” he added, fingering the material with a smile.  
“This one is for you, actually.” Sebastian tugged the bow tie off, popping up Blaine’s collar so he could fit it underneath.

 

Blaine grabbed his hands before he could get as far as tying it, lacing their fingers together as he leaned forward to mouth at Sebastian’s neck.   
“What about dinner?” Sebastian mumbled, with a soft groan of appreciation for Blaine’s ministrations against his throat.  
Blaine growled, biting down against the skin roughly. “We can eat later.”

 

*

 

In the months after Sebastian left home, he often used to dream of what it would be like to be unnecessarily, filthily rich. He dreamed of extravagant dinners, serving lobster and caviar; of galas filled with the most beautiful people in the finest evening wear and of events such as polo matches. 

 

As with most dreams, the reality would never quite live up. Or, at least in the case of polo matches. Sebastian stood on the sidelines, watching them chase the ball around the field for the hundredth time and sighed under his breath.

 

Sure, the cream suit he was wearing felt like silk again his skin, and yes, the champagne in his hand tasted possibly even better than any he’d had so far that week. But being dragged along to the polo match had taken away from what could have been a day spent in bed with Blaine.

 

Blaine, who was currently networking with a series of business associates who were at the match; sparing Sebastian a wave every now and again, but little time for much else. 

 

Sebastian looked over to see Blaine standing with a taller man, another of the younger businessmen he’d seen around, with light wavy hair. He wondered vaguely if they were discussing him, from the way two sets of eyes kept darting across and then away once more.

 

He smiled a little, straightening up and arching his back. That was what he was good at - making himself look good. Making himself look like something men would be desperate to get their hands on. Perhaps, something he was a little too good at, in fact.

 

The man Blaine had previously been talking to was by his side just a few moments later, laying a firm hand on his shoulder. “Sebastian, is it?”  
Sebastian nodded, politely holding out his free hand for the man to shake.  
“Jesse St James. I’m one of Blaine’s partners at the firm,” he smiled, holding onto Sebastian’s hand just a second too long.

 

“Enjoying the game?” Jesse asked conversationally, both men turning to look out across the players, a flurry of grass lifting into the air as they went dashing for the ball.  
Sebastian shrugged. “For the first five minutes, maybe,” he replied drily, with a roll of his eyes.

 

Jesse chuckled, his hand moving to trace circles over Sebastian’s shoulder, brushing as far as the curve of his neck before moving back. “Maybe once your time with Blaine is over, you and I could get together,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over Sebastian’s ear.

 

When Sebastian didn’t respond, Jesse took it as his cue to move closer, fitting the curve of his body to the other’s, hips pressed up tight against his ass. “I’d just love to take you for a ride.”  
Sebastian stepped away furiously, the champagne left in his glass fizzing as his hand shook violently. “Leave me alone,” he mumbled, keeping his gaze set firmly on the game.  
Jesse snorted, grabbing onto his arm firmly. “Don’t play coy with me. Blaine told me you’re just a whore.”

 

Sebastian felt like a whole bucket of ice had just been poured down his back, everything inside of him twisting in discomfort. On the one hand, it was exactly how he was used to being spoken to, and about. But it was what he would hear on Hollywood Boulevard, not on the arm of the kindest and most generous man he’d ever met. Perhaps he should have expected it: that Blaine would brag of how great Sebastian was, all of his friends soon begging for a piece, too.

 

But nothing that Sebastian had learned about Blaine would suggest that he was like that. Yet, he had told Jesse who - or, rather, what - he was. And for the first time since Sebastian had arrived at the Regent hotel that night, he longed for his tiny little apartment, for the rusting taps and the creaking floorboards. Because at least it would never create any false illusions of grandeur for him; in that apartment, Sebastian Smythe knew exactly who he was.

 

“Right now, I am not for sale,” Sebastian hissed at Jesse, turning to him with fire in his eyes. “Once my time with Blaine is up, you can find me on Hollywood Boulevard. Until then, I suggest you learn to keep your hands to yourself.” He took a deep breath, setting his glass down on a nearby table. “Oh, and Mr St James? I believe your wife is calling you,” he finished, gesturing to the short brunette who was crying his name from a few feet away.

 

Jesse’s face coloured significantly, but Sebastian had no interest in watching the repercussions of his words, his only priority being to get out of there as soon as possible. Out of that world where he didn’t belong, and away from Blaine Anderson.

 

*

 

“Bastian, please, just stop,” Blaine whispered, standing helplessly in the bedroom as he watched him stuff shirts into a bag.   
“I’m sorry, Blaine, but I’m done,” Sebastian snapped, pushing past him as he tried once more to step in his way.

 

“I didn’t think you would mind if I told-”  
“Yes!” Sebastian yelled, whirling around on him. “You didn’t think! You didn’t think that maybe it was nice to be getting treated like a person for once, rather than an object on a shelf. And maybe I had no right to expect that when I got myself into this but-  _mmph.”_

 

Sebastian was cut off by the firm press of Blaine’s lips against his, such a shocking contrast to everything they had done that it was enough to have him completely pliant in his arms. 

 

“You kissed me,” Sebastian breathed, when they broke apart, running his tongue over his lower lip slowly.  
“I told him because he was convinced you were a spy, sent to sabotage our business deal,” Blaine explained calmly, although his gaze was still caught on Sebastian’s lips, tinged red from the kiss. “But I am sorry. Both for that, and for kissing you.”  
“Shut up,” Sebastian replied instantly, tossing aside the shirts he’d been packing to loop his arms around Blaine’s neck, tugging him up into another kiss.

 

*

 

For the first time in six years, Blaine Anderson took the next day off work. He claimed, when he rung up at seven the next morning to state his intentions, that he was feeling sick. A case of food poisoning, perhaps. Or maybe, just a touch of  _Sebastian_.

 

Blaine let out a huff as Sebastian tugged him down against the bed, the moment he’d finished his phone call, settling his long limbs over the other man’s.   
“I was thinking we could go out for lunch,” Blaine suggested, his coherent train of thought quickly disappearing as Sebastian wrapped a firm hand around his cock.

 

Sebastian hummed noncommittally, grinning as he jerked Blaine off slowly, his mouth moving to meet his in a similar tempo kiss. Blaine groaned, wrapping his legs firmly around Sebastian as he sucked his tongue messily into his mouth.

 

It seemed that as soon as he’d kissed Sebastian once, he just couldn’t get enough of it. They’d done everything backwards, in many ways: their first kiss being one of the later things they’d gotten to. But Blaine wasn’t going to complain about that, not then that he could finally do it, whenever he wanted.

 

Reluctantly, Blaine let Sebastian move his lips to his neck once more, his hand still moving steadily over him; the taller man’s own cock bumping against his hip.   
“Bastian,” Blaine whispered, twisting his hands in Sebastian’s hair to drag his gaze back up to his. “I want you to make love to me.”  
Sebastian swallowed dryly, his hand suddenly still on Blaine’s cock, frowning uncertainly. 

 

“Sebastian,” Blaine murmured, rubbing at the back of his neck tenderly. “I lo-”  
He pressed his lips to Blaine’s roughly, cutting off any words that could have followed.   
“Please,” Blaine mumbled against his lips. “Please, Bastian, I-”  
Sebastian shushed him gently, peppering gentle kisses to his lips. “I’ve got you, B,” he breathed, the warmth of it fanning across Blaine’s swollen lips, as Sebastian moved to press the pad of his thumb to his entrance. “I’ve got you.”

 

*

 

They lay in a peaceful silence for some time afterwards, letting the light from the wide windows bathe their exhausted bodies.   
“How do you feel about New York?” Blaine asked finally, tilting his head to look at Sebastian, whose gaze was still fixed on the ceiling.  
“I went when I was eight, with my family. I don’t remember it much,” Sebastian shrugged, before turning his own head, too.

 

“What if I got an apartment for you there? I’d pay for it, and give you a weekly wage. You could go to classes during the day and-”  
“No,” Sebastian replied firmly, sitting up and drawing the sheet up around himself.  
“Why not?” Blaine asked quietly, shrinking back a little. He hadn’t meant to offend him; in all honesty, he just didn’t want to lose him.

 

“I have no interest in being owned by someone for the rest of my life, Blaine,” Sebastian said coldly, slipping out of the bed and beginning to dress himself.   
“Forget the wage then. Forget the apartment, you can live with me.”  
“Don’t you get it?” Sebastian sighed, shaking his head in frustration. “I’m not your  _boyfriend_. I’m a whore. I’m the guy you paid to be at your beck and call for a week. To dress up, to take out and show off, to  _screw._ It makes no different if suddenly you start feeling things, because that doesn’t change.”

 

Blaine blinked slowly, his face flooding with colour. “Forgive me for forgetting that you’re not here by choice,” he whispered, reaching for his wallet on the nightstand. “Here,” he murmured, piling up a stack of hundred dollar bills. The green looked dirty against the crisp white sheets. “I think you should leave.”

 

“I think that would be a good idea,” Sebastian snapped back, snatching up the money and gathering his things. “Safe travels. I hope you find another whore to satisfy your needs.”

 

*

 

Sebastian spent an hour wandering around Beverly Hills, toying with where to go, what to do. He considered calling Hunter, but he wasn’t sure he was in the mood for his snarky comments after the morning he’d had, so decided against it.

 

Ultimately, he found himself back at the hotel, wondering if they would let him in enough for him to collect the other shirts he’d left. Maybe they weren’t technically his, but Blaine hadn’t said he couldn’t take them, after all.

 

Mr Thompson waved him through as ever and, thankfully, the suite was empty when he reached the top floor. He set about gathering his things, the silence of the many rooms deafening in its solitude. What once had felt like a palace, was then a prison cell. Sebastian needed out.

 

Sebastian looked up to a knock on the door, just as he was close to finishing with his packing. Assuming it was hotel staff, as Blaine had his own key, Sebastian moved to answer it, only to come face to face with Jesse, once again.

 

“What do you want?” he sighed, running a hand over his face in exhaustion.  
“I came to drag Blaine to the office,” Jesse explained, looking around the suite in confusion as he stepped past him through the door.   
It must have looked a state to the outside eye; clothes strewn over couches as Sebastian had hastily been trying to get them organised, the breakfast trays untouched and growing stale.

 

“He’s not here,” Sebastian replied sharply, stomping over to continue his packing.  
“Did you two have a disagreement?” Jesse cooed, grinning as he followed Sebastian in, slipping his arms around his waist from behind.   
Sebastian growled, pushing at his hands roughly. “How many times am I going to have to tell you to keep your hands to yourself?”

 

“Until you realise that you don’t want me to,” Jesse hissed, forcing Sebastian down onto the carpeted floor and trapping him with his own body.  
Sebastian struggled against him but Jesse quickly pinned his wrists beside his head, the weight of his body more than he could overthrow in that position.

 

“I know you want me, really,” Jesse whispered, leaning down to try to kiss him.  
Sebastian twisted his head away in disgust, jerking as Jesse sank his mouth down over his neck.

 

Over the struggle, neither Sebastian nor Jesse heard the sound of the door to the suite being opened; barely even the footsteps that approached.  
“What the fuck are you doing?” Blaine snarled, grabbing Jesse by the back of his neck and hauling him off Sebastian. Without so much as a glance towards the other man, he swung his fist towards Jesse’s face, knocking him back with a satisfying crunch.

 

Sebastian staggered to his feet, grabbing the closest bags to him, grateful that he’d managed to pack as much as he had before Jesse had arrived, making towards the door. For the briefest second, his and Blaine’s gazes locked, a silent plea passing between them before Sebastian was storming out of the door. 

 

Jesse managed to get to his feet, clutching his jaw tightly. “He’s not worth all of this,” he mumbled, shaking his head at Blaine in disbelief.  
“That’s where you’re wrong, Jesse,” Blaine sighed, collapsing onto the couch. “Sebastian is worth a hell of a lot more than you, for a start. And he’s worth far more than I could ever give.”

 

*

 

Sebastian wasn’t sure what had propelled him to actually go through it: Blaine, himself, or the incidents with Jesse, maybe. But, regardless of why it was so, Sebastian found himself standing in the cramped little kitchen, with a bag packed at his feet and a bus ticket for San Francisco in his hand.

 

“Well, I’ll be here when you give up and need some more money,” Hunter grinned, toasting him with the bottle of beer in his hand that he was halfway through.  
Sebastian shook his head, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “I’m meant for more than this, Hunt. And you are too. Are you sure you won’t come with me?”

 

Hunter shook his head, staring out of the window with a pensive sigh. “It’s not my time yet. I need to meet my billionaire first, right?” he teased, narrowly missing a blow to the head. “Speaking of billionaires..” He let out a low whistle, peering out of the window where a large white limousine had drawn up. “Who’s getting married?”

 

“What?” Sebastian frowned, staring out of the window, his jaw going slack as Blaine appeared out of the back seat. “Oh, god, no.”  
“Sebastian?” Blaine yelled from the street level, gazing up at the building hopefully. “Excuse me, does a Sebastian live here?”

 

Hunter stuck his head out of the window gleefully. “He’s right here!” he shouted back, grabbing Sebastian and pushing him towards the fire escape forcefully, ignoring Sebastian’s hisses of protest.

 

Sebastian leaned out over the railing of the stairs, glaring down at Blaine who stood shuffling from foot to foot, a bouquet of roses in his hand.   
“I quit my job today,” Blaine started, offering him a hopeful smile, to which Sebastian stayed stoically silent.

 

“I realised- Well. You helped me to realise that there’s more to life than doing what other people expect of me. I should be doing what I love. So, I’m going back to music.” He took a breath, moving towards the bottom step of the fire escape. “And I should be with the person that I love. And I love you, Sebastian Smythe.”

 

Blaine started up the stairs, very pointedly not looking down as he went. “You told me that you don’t believe in fairytales. But I do. Which is why I’m here, climbing the side of a building, for you. Because I refuse to let you disappear from my life.”

 

Sebastian shook his head in disbelief, unable to stop the giddy grin that was spread across his face. “Don’t look down, baby, come on. You’re almost there,” he murmured, leaning down to offer Blaine his hand. 

 

He tugged Blaine up onto the level, firmly wrapping his arms around his waist. “You’re a madman,” he sighed, leaning down to rest his forehead against Blaine’s.   
“I know, that was three whole flights!” Blaine exclaimed; the claiming of his lips doing little to settle his racing heart rate. 

 

“I’m leaving for San Francisco in an hour. Do you want to join me?” Sebastian asked softly when they broke apart, his hand resting low on the small of Blaine’s back.  
Blaine beamed, nodding furiously. “I’d love to.”

 

“We’re going to take the bus, okay? Not your car, not a private jet. The Greyhound.”  
Blaine chuckled, resting his free hand on Sebastian’s chest. “I think I can manage that.”  
“Oh, and one last thing?” Sebastian whispered, tangling the fingers of one hand with Blaine’s. “I love you, too.”


End file.
